Hell's Watch
by DeathFrown
Summary: I come up with the cheesiest names ever. The story is pretty straight forward, it slowly introduces the Hellsing crew into the Overwatch-verse and has an over arching story that I'm still working on. Give it a read. Tell me what you think. It takes place right after Alive and Recall, the other animated shorts still happen simultaneously. Contains mature language, no sexual themes.
1. First Sighting

Disclaimer: I do not own Overwatch or its characters; I do not own Hellsing or its characters. These are property of Blizzard and Kouta Hirano and no money will be made of this unless someone gives me more to continue this story for some sad joy.

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First Sighting

In the world that was now 2063, everything had changed. Technology had ushered a new age of robotic intelligence thirty years ago. Omniums as they were called were the first of a long line of robots that would soon propagate terror. The issue was a hot debate back in 1999 when the first Omnium had been presented, a small child-like XLR that could program itself to understand language and profound questions. Though it did lack understanding in the department of philosophical approaches to such questions, they were undeniably quick in learning as was proven when it had beaten the World's Go GrandMaster. A fear had gripped the hearts of men then, as an unspoken thought, uprising. Would a time that these Omnium robots be capable of such a feat? The question had been put down rather abruptly as three laws were introduced, three laws that should have never been retracted. The future is questionable, the past is undoubtedly regretful, the present is restless fidgeting.

Some said it was only a matter time before it would all come crashing down, they were right. A miracle thought to be impossible happened and with it came retribution.

Anarchy reigned free and chaos was triumphant, people sought anyone, or anything, that would protect them. Omniums had hacked into automated factories and machines were being churned out on a factory line, moving for the sole purpose of killing humans. Each unit destroyed was rebuilt faster and stronger . It seemed Judgment day was nigh. With little hope left, it was now that the World united under the Banner of the United Nations, an Elite Task Force was commissioned. Overwatch, comprising of individuals from each nation brought in to halt and cease all Omnic Operations. It was then that hope had been re-ignited, people took up arms and soon it seemed all was not lost.

For over thirty years this Group of highly trained individuals watched over the world, helping the war stricken or protecting it from the shadows. The name 'Overwatch' had taken its place in the History books but for now, they rest, officially dismantled under the Petras Act.

Peace had come to pass for a time as long as the war lasted. Thirty years ago, the Omnic Crisis was averted but today, thirty years later, the world stands on the brink of another. Progressing forward, wholly ignorant of the growing threat, the world celebrates under the pretense of peace. Soon, it will be revealed, war is on the horizon, whether they like it or not.

Heroes never die but _even_ heroes need help sometimes. They've all had it; the most iconic of heroes have had a helping hand when in need. Often times from a friend, a comrade, a colleague, a partner, there go by many different names but there's always one which is left out. It is perhaps not technically correct to say 'left out'. This help doesn't grab onto you as you fall, it doesn't lend you a shoulder to cry on, it doesn't even show its face but it's the type that leaves a wire hanging around for you. It's a more discreet approach and it's that lingering thought that Heroes feel after a hard fought victory. They do not deny their own work, but when things are simply so in their favor, people are dubious about it. They are right to be. They can't tell if what's lurking in the shadows is a friend or a foe but for now, they saw a silent thank you, be it a Guardian Angel or just a shy ally.

Today was one of those days for Tracer, she was semi-conscious and soon about to lose the 'semi', lying on the cold pavement as her Chronal Accelerator continued whirring, its light, dim and shimmering, she felt like a kick in the stomach had left her discombobulated, the truth wasn't far, but it wasn't just that. She had **failed** and not a dozen or even a hundred kicks in the gut could ever match up-to that feeling. There was no excuse she could give- there _never_ was when Heroes failed. She wasn't being hard on herself, not today, not when a person had died because she had failed. Heroes never die, sure, but they fail and when they do, there are consequences. She knew, she had to get back up, it was all about getting back up and fighting the good fight till the end but she had to ask herself, was there any point anymore? The very world they were protecting had turned their back on them. The Petras act had ensured she would have no help, no Winston to fall back on and no family to rely on.

Now, as her vision faded, she felt two hands lift her up. It was just as her eyes closed, the feeling of lift bought her a moment longer, enough to shift her head and look at who it was. All she could make out was light blonde spiky hair and scarlet eyes. She felt the person freeze for a moment before she stalled.

' _Was I wrong when I thought there was nobody left?'_ Tracer faded as her thought lingered on in her dreams.

Her eyes peered open, she was being wheeled and commands were being ushered in a low voice to which hushed replies came forth. Her eyes faltered yet again and when they opened, she felt tired and soon she slipped back into sleep. When they re-opened, it was night yet again. She brought a hand up to cover her eyes. As she adjusted, she saw the light from the tubes illuminating her room. She looked down and saw that her device was fully functional, no whirring or whining from it. She was relieved but the image of the girl popped back into her head. She had to thank her. She brought her here, the staff would have to know, right?

After getting up and getting changed into her more comfortable attire, consisting of her brown leather jacket and yellow tights with harnesses in place to hold up her guns and Chronal Accelerator, it was then that a nurse walked in upon this.

"What are you doing!? It hasn't even been a _day_ since you were admitted!" She fussed in a lowered voice as she made her way to Lena, hands outstretched.

Ignoring the question and dodging her hands Lena answered her with a question of her own, "Would you mind doing me a favor, Luv', and telling me if you know who it was that brought me in?" The nurse looked taken aback but otherwise answered quickly tucking away a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

"You were found actually. At our front desk! You were unconscious and the Doctor who was there at the time had taken control of the situation and proceeded with the operation. You're lucky to have made it; you had some _serious_ internal bleeding." Lena's eyes widened as she processed this. Was it really that bad? She _did_ lose consciousness after-all. Then again, she couldn't think straight, back when it happened. Sadness had overcome her then, but now, as she looked at her hands. She felt she had to make things right. To continue doing what she could to help. She had gotten back up and now she had to find and pick up the pieces. Something big was happening and she needed to get down to the bottom of it!

It was now that a familiar beeping had taken over the silence that had been left in Lena's habit of self-resolution. She perked up and was immediately looking around for the device. She pulled open the bag that had contained her clothes, pulled open her bedside drawer and in her scramble for it, she was even ready to flip the mattress, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the nurse holding a bag to her chest, a rather meek appearance but it was obvious what she meant.

"I think it's in this." She said in a low polite tone. Her own freckled face was blushing while her hand retracted to her mouth in order to choke the chuckle that threatened to escape. Who knew heroes were so animated and like the rest of us?

"Oh! Thanks Luv!" Grabbing the bag, Lena tossed about the guns and other personal items she had and found what exactly it was that she was looking for, a small comm link. It had all happened in the matter of seconds, courtesy of Lena's blindingly fast speed. How the nurse had managed to stop her before she flipped the mattress is besides the point at this moment.

Placing it in her ear, she hit a button and soon a ringing tone entered her ears. Anticipation filled her heart and she could feel her heart leap in her chest. Then it clicked and she knew the call had connected.

"Winston? Is that you, luv?" She couldn't contain the giggle that came out as she spoke, she was so happy! Overwatch was coming back and whatever was at work behind the scenes, they'd better watch out! "It's been _far_ too long!" And finally, his gruff chuckle made her all but grin like a little girl.

"Yes, yes it has."

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Hey! The first is proofed and tweaked a bit! I would still appreciate it if you guys pointed out any random stupidities you find, it helps a lot. The idea upon how I wanted to connect these two universes was pretty straight forward but I'll be leaving the details out. For now, I will be saying I'm avoiding using the skin disease(not talking about his in-game skins) they've mentioned for Reaper as canon. I believe it's better to just have him become something far more than just human. Anyway, Thanks for reading.


	2. Thoughts, Immortality and Decisions

Thoughts, Immortality and Decisions

The night sky was beginning to break as streaks of dawn slowly ushered in over the clouds and with it, the first morning of a new era to come. It was only last night that the decisive clash had been had. As Man and Machine shot, maimed, cut, broke, crushed, skewered and just about blew each other up that the Humans truly realized what it was they were fighting. An infinite Army reproduced in the seconds it took to destroy one of them, a never-ending factory-line and as this realization struck, the Humans found themselves growing desperate, their ranks were diminishing, their bodies grew weary and their minds were at a precipice, hope truly seemed to be the furthest thing there that day but it was amidst all this, a sudden quirk, a sudden discharge, a breakdown, a malfunction, the Machines lost their figurative legs, they didn't know how it was possible and whatever it happened, it worked, the Machines grew dull, they moved sluggishly and they're aim was off by miles. They had become dummies and in moments the Humans lead their last charge filled with overwhelming vigor.

It was as they say, 'Strike while the Iron is hot.' The Humans wasted not a second pushing the advantage that had fallen into their laps. They pushed like fanatical Demons. The Machines seemed almost frightened in comparison, backing themselves further and further towards their Core. Even as each Machine fought till its last limb was torn off, till each Machine drew its last electrical buzz, they fought for their Core. They would never come to see the age of Machines that they wished for. That wish was the one true part of the Machines that was killed today.

To her, it looked pitiful, it resembled the Humans and yet the beings in question would never see it the same. Perched upon the Watchpoint, they looked down upon the Humans. Perhaps it was meant to be like this. She had no right interfering here today and even as she did it, a tinge of regret bit into her for the first time after she had chosen this path. Had she doomed an entire potential race due to her sympathetic Human roots? As her blonde locks fell over her eyes, her downcast look had bothered the one who had accompanied her.

"You think of such pointless things Police Girl." _His_ Voice broke her away from her silent reverie. She looked up to see him smiling with mirth. None of the humans below knew that these two individuals were here. "True heroes are born from killing monsters, not some smart hunk of metal." However indignant she felt, she was far too tired now to have a verbal go down with him and he too could see that it was ill advised to prod any further. Their feelings had been mutual that morning. Though one of them would never agree to such ground, they both still knew it. Today, a race was snuffed out by their actions. She proffered her own two cents as a silence came about.

"Perhaps to them, this _was_ just another Monster." The man behind her harrumphed at this thought. She could tell he did not take kindly to being lumped together with _Hunks of Metal_ under the same category. But he too still agreed as much as he'd hate doing so.

"Perhaps…" He said solemnly.

"Master, I think I understand, even if only a little bit, about when you said you found Humans fascinating." To him, this had come unexpectedly. He pursed his lips as she looked down at the people working about tending to their wounded and excavating the bodies of their comrades. But as his troubled feelings came, they went, nary a remark they were simply concealed once more. A cry of victory resounded below, the Core was brought out and thrown onto the ground and each Soldier raised their guns and cheered.

He lightly rapped over her head, just hard enough that she felt a bit of pain. She was still far too young, "Come along Police Girl, our Master awaits her Servants." Though she was slightly miffed, she turned around, all thought of retorting faded as she processed what he had told her.

"Integra's still awake!? Does she know what time it is!?" Alucard casually smiled and Seras immediately took to the skies. As he watched her hurry back, he looked over his shoulder and amongst the humans his eye had picked out a rather young Pilot, a petite brunette with hair, as short, perhaps shorter than Seras'. He smirked as he perceived a distant picture.

"Heroes." He said without prejudice, as if simply testing out the word and what it would entail for the future. He could still hear his Fledgling spout her worries for Integra's declining health and he soon followed suite, leaving the Humans at Gibraltar Point to deal with the reminder of their own problems.

Perhaps someday in the future he would meet these Heroes and test their mettle? He smirked at his own thought, of course he would. He _was_ a Monster after all.

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Revised! Also, tell me any sorta feedback, perhaps you didn't like a part or how it was narrated, maybe I jumped the thought process by mistake, any and all criticism is something I'll appreciate. As always, Thanks for reading!


	3. A Pro Gamer's Motivation

A Pro Gamer's Motivation

Sometimes all it takes is a change of scenery for a person to grow exponentially. Not a long, drawn-out, training session, but a change in pace and generally, a relaxing moment to just have fun. Though what Hana Song had considered as casual fun had eventually wound up with her participating in a Grand Championship tournament. It _wasn_ 't that she couldn't just play a game and simply have fun doing it, no, she could've quite simply taken up a small game and satisfied herself. But, where's the fun in that!? Hana had always been competitive, perhaps to a fault, but it's what got her title, the Youngest Grand Champion of Starcraft, aged just sixteen! As you all know, Starcraft isn't at all easy, having to manage both Micro and Macro at a very high pace with complete precision and still, this is obviously not something that can be achieved without an indefinite amount of grueling practice, quick-thinking and perfect strategy.

The same could be said for the game she was playing now, but there was one fundamental thing which set apart both these games, strategy. The level of strategy that both games could produce was dissimilar to say the least, whereas she was alone and in-charge of controlling everything in Starcraft, she was with teammates here. It was a team-based competitive shooting game. One from the older generations, perhaps 5 decades ago, would've associated this game with the at the time popular Call of Duty franchise but this game had revolutionized it.

With the advent of technology, games were no longer limited to hardware that we had to use in order to play the game; Virtual Reality had changed everything in the scene. The players were capable of what they thought off and each game was a carefully thought out assault and defense. If one were to see this game, they would most probably think of Counter Strike and how fast a carefully placed situation could quickly devolve into death after death with each headshot and spray. Yes, this game was not far from being called one of the hardest games of its Era.

A break had come in, surprising all at the tournament, Numbani was a peaceful place and yet, a news broadcast had interrupted the grand championship, luckily in between rounds. "We have urgent news of an attack, terrorists at large! And, Overwatch Agents back in action?! Wow! We actually have something worth reporting for once! But wait, there's more! We have actual footage for the folks at home to see!" D'Va had immediately perked up at the mention of Overwatch, but it wasn't just D'Va, the entirety of stadium had stopped groaning and turned to pay attention.

It was then, that scenes directly from Numbani's crowned Museum streamed in right into the Coloseum-isque Battle Arena that was built, was surprised to say the least.

She immediately recognized both former Overwatch members, Tracer and Winston, participating in what seemed to be a firefight between themselves and two others. These individuals were skilled and it didn't take past a moment to notice this. Her teammates scoffed at the rather unrealistic scene that unfolded but the this was as real as it got.

She had never seen the agents her former Overwatch teammates were fighting and she took it upon herself to analyze them. She was a Meka soldier and the thought of having to fight these opponents with no information scared her, if only a little bit. She could feel her excitement build at the thought but she shelved these thoughts for now and set her focus straight.

The Black caped, white masked individual was incredibly skilled, using both his guns to keep Tracer and Winston at a distance as they tried to flank and gain entrance to an advantage, he strafed easily and was sure of his movements making it harder for both of them to get an inch over him. She also noted that the purple skinned girl had disappeared from combat. Things would not be so even were she to interfere but that only served to disconcert even more. She was first Hana Song, a not-so-simple human being who also a Meka trooper, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel flustered even as she felt the urge to fight them herself.

It was sudden. An explosion from the corner of the screen turned the battle in favor of Overwatch. It suddenly splits to show another smaller individual, a kid handling a weapon that covers his fist as he slowly gets back to his feet. _Was he the cause of that?_ Hana reasons with herself, she, no, any member that has been part of Overwatch would recognize that instrument of destruction that the boy equipped. The Doomfist. She involuntarily gulped. It was only far too vivid in her memories of what the weapon was capable of.

Her eyes had never left the screen even as her thoughts were in a rather disorderly fashion, she saw Winston tackle the Caped Man and immediately apply a German supplex to the poor guy, and Tracer firing off her pulse pistols as she blinked from side to side, effectively weaving through the Purple skinned Female's bullets. Even as her mind seemed somewhat preoccupied, it could easily make out what the thoughts of each individual there was, screening fire, dodging, buying time, decoy, surprise attack and each of their own analyzes as they adapted and fought. As Winston roared, the big guy being unable to bring himself to hurt the female, Tracer took the opportunity as the purple skinned female who was suddenly aware of a much bigger threat and blinked in right beside her, and when the female turned to fire off her gun at Tracer, she took it with a launching kick sending it flying into the sky before blinking up herself and grabbing it. The female who was left weaponless immediately sought to escape and with the sudden reappearance of the Black caped individual, the fled, leaving bombs in their escapade.

"It was as Angela, AKA, Mercy says, 'Angels never die!', wait- or, wasn't it 'Heroes never die!' Aah! Yes, heroes never die, but they'll be wanted for violating that Act! The Petras Act quite clearly established that no matter how supposedly needed they were, they would first need approval from the UN to act and since we've received no such news, this act is being seen as vigilantism and the police are on the case, on both Overwatch and these two individuals! If you see any of these individuals be sur-"

Disrupted, the disgruntled voice of a Caster took over. "Ahahaha, now that was a break! Well, after a minute, we'll be back to action! Guns blossoming just like the Reaper's in the video!"

Even as the video imprinted itself in her memory, Hana could only feel a certain gnawing at the back of her mind at the back of her mind. She too had to evolve, she too had to grow stronger and she could only do that with better competition, better opponents, she had her own battleground where she could improve and that was here. She needed more experience with things and there was little to be gained by playing the same game over and over again. A war was coming and she needed to be prepared.

It was that night that Hana Song had been celebrated as the World's Greatest FPS Gamer as she leaped bounds past expectations to bring Victory to her team. It had been a first for to be so motivated during a game, well within expectations of her Agent.


	4. The Cold Hands at Work

The Cold Hands at Work

The nights in Europe _were_ always cold. The wind barely moved and the Moon had already turned in for the night under a comfy blanket of clouds. With a shiver, her hands reached up to her shoulders and started rubbing up and down over her leather jacket. But being from London the cold shouldn't have really bothered her this much, but when you're wearing a spandex on top of roof as you stake out a building, it's kind of hard not to feel chilly.

Why, you may ask, was she standing on a rooftop stalking a building? Well, the event of Doomfists' gauntlet back at Numbani had left them wanted thereby leaving them with little to no public presence or capability of it. They had in the process become two of the most wanted individuals along with their nemesis Talon agents. This combined with the fact that this building here had the highest chance of being attacked left them with no choice but to hold a stakeout as the waited for Talons move.

She sighed, a small white cloud forming in front of her as she does, there really was no guarantee that they would strike here. Her hand reached up and taps a small device located in her ear.

"Winston, Luv', are you sure that what Athena picked up on wasn't a decoy? I don't mean to pester or anything but I don't see any movement here and am freezing!" She hugged herself animatedly even though Winston couldn't see it. It helped, a bit.

"They could just be waiting for the most apt timing to infiltrate. We have to be close by and ready if we are to respond. Leaving now to re-scan for more recent activity for probably strikes we would be risking-."

"Alright, Luv', I get it!" She did. It was just the fact that the inside looked so _cozy_ and _warm_ and not cold, which didn't help her mood. They had already been here for three hours past sundown. The inside she had mentioned was a party of sorts, but in actually it was a gathering, of course, it was no ordinary party if Talon was targeting them and without fail, hosting the most important people in Britain, this party was a class apart.

The twelve Knights of the Round Table were present, including two former knights, one of whom was highly decorated. But the most disturbing fact was that there was virtually no security to be seen. Actually, from what Lena could tell, there was none. No guards, nothing of the sort. The old structure hosted no CCTV or the like and was completely defenseless from the looks of it. Athena had confirmed this to be the case, but Lena still had trouble believing that this was truly the case.

The party was as casual as a Sunday get-together would be, if there were the chance of a typhoon hitting that very day and Lena was growing listless because of it. After all, she had to stay alert enough to act immediately if Talon made their move. This reason was why it was often left to other better suited individuals. Winston was a part of that group but rarely participated due to his rather er- large frame. Yes, the fella had a big heart but the bad guys would recognize him a mile away.

But, getting back to the real matter at hand, Lena noticed another irregularity. She was certain Winston had too. Including the two former Knights, there should be fourteen Knights in total present at this meeting as was picked up by Athena. But, in the midst of it all was a young woman, a girl that bounced from left to right, a fifteenth member, wearing a red turtle-neck sweater that ran to her gloved hands, a black skirt and red thigh-high stockings that ended in rather plain combat leather boots, she spoke to each individual as if they were close friends and to Lena's guess, she had to be daughter or relative of one of the fourteen present.

Her flaxen-blonde hair was tightly tied back while some cascaded over the front as it pleased. The most fascinating thing, at least to Lena, was not the fact that she was present in that group, _well it was_ , but her scarlet eyes that seemed to gleam so dangerously and yet, each man and women were at ease along with her as they conversed merrily. It unnerved her somehow but she wasn't exactly sure, how.

They had Athena run a background check on the female and each Knight present which only further complicated things. She was neither a daughter nor an associate of any present and yet, there she was, frolicking around and enjoying the gathering. _If only it had ended there_. The search had pulled up no results for the girl, none. She was a Ghost.

But no matter how skilled an agent was, if Talon was planning to strike here and they did, a simple hostage is all they would need to stop her dead in her tracks. Perhaps that was it? Were they waiting for her to leave their target alone? To pick the most suitable target and attack before she could put get in between?! Or was it a trap to lure them out, to have them break into the confines of a highly secretive and established party? Was she just overthinking this, the situation was still dormant but it could quite easily go from being manageable to both hands tied behind their backs as they simply watch it unfold without being able to do anything.

She bit her lower lip in frustration but in the end, decided to act as was what she was best at.

"Winston! I think we should move in, Luv'! If they're about to do what I think they are, we'd better!" Lena exclaimed, she needed the go-ahead, they were just two former agents and discipline wouldn't let them act on their own. Commander Morrison had drilled into them the difference between being a hero and being part of a team. Overwatch was no longer behind him and that doubled the need for such conduct. Even if they ran the risk of it being a false alarm, it was better than being incapable to do anything when it all goes down.

To lay the decision of responsibility on Winston was not something Tracer meant to do. She too would share the end result regardless of who called it but to Winston, none of it mattered. He weighed the cons against the pros. He looked towards the Mansion as the temperature slowly dropped even lower and then looked over to another rooftop where Lena was. He wondered why he bothered thinking at all about this, after all, Winston could never _not_ believe in Tracer when she so strongly believed in something. There were times he regretted it and times he didn't but if he had to make this decision, he would always chose to act on her immediate belief. And besides, he was under the impress that silently infiltrating and waiting would be a better course of action as they could act swiftly, and not to mention the numbing cold that was the outside.

With a snort, Winston spoke "Alright, let's move in!" He could hear a small zip in the distance as Tracer had already begun moving. He took the high route as always, using his boost-pack to quite gently land on the roof, scanning the rooftops another time before quietly slipping inside.

They could never have guessed the real targets were not the high-profile members attending the party, not the young blonde girl who was a ghost, but them. After all, no matter how much control one had over time, as long as they weren't omnipotent it didn't matter.

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300 words -vvv- sry.

(This was originally at the beginning!)Hey guys! I was thinking about my direction with this story, the over-arching grand scheme of things and much more, so I haven't really gotten around to typing anything as evidently shown by the lack of updates! Well, it suffices to say that I think a lot about this stuff _and then some_ before I even think about typing anything and well, still feel dissatisfied with the result. As Hellsing itself is a rather clandestine operation based in Europe, it's quite difficult to really get it out and part of a bigger problem. I work with the semantics of things and if I don't like the semantics, I wait and think a bit more, sadly, my muse has been extremely pre-occupied with trying to get Seras into Star-Trek… that may come out later once I find a proper alien race that wants to kill humans.. so, this chapter took a bit longer.

(This was originally at the end!) Actually, I'm not entirely sure how long typing out 1300 words should take, but it took me two days while my muse was rather focused at 1 AM and about 3 hours each day till 4 AM. On other things, I'm extremely and incredibly disappointed with myself as I struggle to portray not only Winston but Tracer as well. I'm just… rather unfamiliar with their mannerisms. To say the least I'm actually going on a limb here. So, I would really, _really_ appreciate criticism and some insight/ pointers about that, or really, a heads-up if you think it's still okay, like you don't have to tear your eyes off as you read this poor representating, something like that okay. Well, since I have rather, vague-ish, solid-ish direction to go, I'll be concentrating on pushing that. Yeah. My mind is floating now, so I'll end it there before I add unnecessary stuff in. Signing off, Thx for reading.


	5. Big Earth

Big Earth

Athena was the first to realize, or more accurately put, Athena should've been the first to notice and she did. The vital signs of Tracer had immediately suffered a change as soon as they had begun the operation, a plummet; the signs resembled a state akin to unconsciousness. Of course, Athena gave it a moment, but immediately concluded that something had indeed happened to her. This was only further confirmed when she had tried to contact her and immediately lost signal from the communication device, luckily, there was another device installed before the mission began meant to track her. She pursued the most logical course of action following these turn of events, the only action she could take at this moment and contacted Winston.

"Winston! Tracer's isn't responding, the vital signs indicate that she's been knocked unconscious. Winston, do you read me!" With an urgent tone, Athena hailed Winston but received no reply. Winston's own signs had become erratic, had they engaged the enemy? But this was far too abnormal a situation to have developed naturally over the course of an engagement. Especially when they had just started the infiltration, Athena could only surmise that Lena was engaged separately while Winston infiltrated unhindered. From this point, she could only derive that the information they had received was a plot to have them infiltrate, or at the very least, give their enemies enough time and preparation to allow them to capture Lena. The Members of the Round Table were never the targets, _they_ were!

What action should she take now? Athena pondered silently as a contact was brought up and hovered on screen.

Meanwhile, it was Winston who entered the building, onto the second floor balcony that overlooked the party and it was when his animal instincts suddenly rang out warning him of the danger behind him. An image of Death was all that he could perceive behind himself, the scent was thick of it, and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on ends, a shiver travelling down his spine.

With his fight or flight triggered, he swung backwards in an attempt to backhand whatever was behind him. He caught a shadow with the corner of his eye as his hand was seized. The shadow pulled on his arm, shifting weight, over its shoulder and tossed him with a Judo-like movement down to the bottom of the room. With a loud sound he landed hard on his back. It was only now that Athena's voice had reached his ears. As groggy as the landing made him, he knew what his immediate priority had become.

"You… you're from Overwatch, Wiston, if I recall?" a retired knight, a lady with long flowing platinum blonde hair spoke. This was Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. The information regarding her was quite abnormal and did not at all match up to the status quo she presented in the party, seemingly a level above all those present there, or was just generally treated in such a way. They had chalked it up to age and time on duty, but it seemed she really was the authoritative figure here, seeing she was the spokesperson.

Giving her no response, Winston got up, glancing around a bit.

"Don't worry. That brute of a woman will attack only if you take any _unnecessary_ actions now." Integra stated plainly and immediately another voice broke out in response.

"Who are you calling a brute!?" It exclaimed and with it came the shadow from above and landed beside her. It was _her_ , the _Ghost_! But Winston had no time for this, taking their exchange as a momentary lapse of judgment he engaged his thrusters to burst through the window beside him and into the outside world. Lena was in trouble and he needed to get there. But as soon as he launched himself, half-way through, he felt something grab onto him.

His thrusters were on full throttle and yet, as he looked over his shoulder, the Ghost had held onto him tightly and seemingly easily with just one hand, what on earth was she!? The thrusters, unable to support the extended usage, died down to recharge, Winston landed back down and yet again swung his arm around to create distance but it was caught, twisted and pushed into the cavity of his back, the girl mounted him, effectively disabling Winston from any further movements. He could only look forward, helplessly, towards the window.

It was then that it clicked in his mind. They were the target this time. Talon was waiting for them to make the move before making theirs. And now, as he was restrained, Lena was being taken away and this Ghost had him pinned with just a single hand as she mounted. What would _he_ do in this situation? Pondering for only a fraction of second, he reaffirmed himself and spoke.

"Wait!" He growled, "My partner's been attacked and presumably captured, I need to save her!" The grip on his land slacked a tiny bit but if he struggled now, his words would no longer have any credibility. Turning his head and looking over his shoulder, he saw the girl on top of him, wide-eyed. Their eyes made contact and she held it for a moment before pursing her lips.

"Well?" Integra's voice cut in and questioned.

Closing her eyes, the Ghost let him loose as she got off him. Winston was startled but now wasn't the time to question the would-be naivety the other party was showing, reactivating his jump pack, he re-focused on Lena. Integra sighed exasperatedly as Winston burst through the window with the use of his jump pack.

"I'm coming with you." A voice suddenly stopped him for a moment. He was on a rooftop of another building, no matter how much training she could've undergone; she was still _human,_ wasn't she!? He saw no way that she could've made that jump with him, especially when he himself had the assistance of his jump pack! But for some reason, he wasn't too surprised when he turned and saw her atop a water canister. Her eyes gleamed like red rubies and she grinned like a cat.

"I'm coming with you or, would you rather I put you in another hold?" She asked playfully. Setting aside her joke, he considered her physical prowess over the duration of their exchanges and immediately consented. This was not some girl that was following him, she was a trained individual who knew what she was getting into.

"Thank you." Winston said before using his jump pack again. Truly, the world was always full of surprising people.

* * *

As usual, it was only a matter of thinking about the various scenes to come. Jeez, the premise of it is seemingly easy to think of, but when you get down to the gritty details, that's when most Cross-over authors realize the true depth of the challenge they're taking on. Well, having written a lot, most of which are privately done, I can say it's going to be one heck of a ride as I write this. Well, as always, read and review. And, gimme some help with Wiston, his character throws me for a loop as I try to think of witty responses. ;_; So, don't come to my crying when I fuck it up. :P


	6. Notice

To begin with, this is not a chapter, but an announcement!

I'm at a crossroad of sorts with the story and there are at least four routes I'm capable of taking this story but here's the catch, each route hasn't been established yet and I'm reluctant to proceed without having done it. And that's basically why I haven't uploaded in a bit after the first five chapters, so very sorry to those who are looking forward to it, or looking forward to how badly I fuck up the Overwatch character portrayal. Haha.

That aside, I'm actually rather uncomfortable with my previous chapters and would really like a Beta. I'm looking for someone who has a pretty standard understanding of flow and will help me continue the story without breaking it up with so many comma's. Of course, full creative editing privileges are included and that's in the sense that the final update for a chapter is run through me for a final okay! Though I find my eye capable of spotting errors/ finding better ways to change and reconstruct certain sequences, it will take up too much time. I cannot linger around a chapter for a week after publishing it and constantly revisiting it for a change here or there. That would make indefinitely extend the story for an eternity. You know, it's that stupid curse where everything you write the previous second looks like trash no matter how well received/ or good it may be. In your eyes, it becomes something you cannot understand how you've come about creating. A Monster that you chisel away at, day and night, trying yet to make an angel of it. Therefore, I'm sincerely looking for a Beta who'll have a go at my story and really demolish it for it is and give it to me straight. This is asking a bit much, but I'm afraid of posting anymore chapters to come back and see it as rubbish.. It kinda hurts.. that, and Rocket League hooked me like a fish with its crates, I'm glad to say I've 18 unique items from the crates. No, I did not get the Universal decal sadly. Yes, I'm rather good at the game. No, I'm not a pro. No, I do not know pros.

So, I'm extremely sorry again for the delay of the next chapter, I have it written but I really want a Beta who'll have a go at it for a few days at least with a bit of go between and then come to post it. And by written, I mean just one route of the four- or more- has been written because it's something I can envision rather clearly in comparison to the other four.  
 **  
**With that, I leave you! Have a Lucky Day!


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